Repost: Composer of Character and Grace

To whom my girls affectionately called Paw-Paw, Happy Birthday! You would be 96 today. 

Original Post: 2016

Finding the words to describe a loved one that has passed and how profoundly they have affected my life is never easy. With each passing of a loved one, I reflect on how their lives were grandiose, vibrant, unique, meaningful and prevalent in their overflowing capacity of grace. A grace that was bestowed upon us with every greeting, farewell and the fulfilled, unforgotten moments in between.

Grandpa was no different.

Twenty years ago, Linda Ellis wrote a poem called The Dash. Since then, I would like to think most people spend more time reflecting on what separates our earthly birth from our heavenly one. That small line encapsulates every hill and valley and triumph and defeat. Few have composed such a magnificent life as Grandpa. If the dash was a badge of honor, he earned it. Undeniably. If it were a badge representing how many he served with an attitude of grace and how those people were affected by his high standards of character, then he earned it. Without question.

As for commitment to faith and family, Grandpa raised the bar. God and family were always, without hesitation, first. Just as importantly, it came easily. When church was in session, he'd be there. If there was a lesson to be learned, he'd teach it. When there was time to play ball with his grandsons, an opportunity to show off his fancy pitches – each one with the promise that it was unhittable – he would willingly take it.  If there was a sporting event, a birthday, or anything involving family, he was there. Usually right next to my dad. And usually with a small bag of jelly beans tucked away he'd later disperse as if tiny nuggets of gold.

Few have composed a magnificent life like Grandpa. He lived his dash with a contagious joy. Comforted by life around him, whether birds at the feeder or great-grandchildren climbing his walker, he enjoyed life like he lived it. To the fullest.

His most significant composition...well, it wouldn't take you long to figure it out. If you were peered in through the window during the holidays or one of the other numerous celebrations held beneath the rafters of their home, you would see his greatest love was family. From his wife and children all the way down to his great-grandchildren. We are his opus.

Grandpa took every note the Good Lord gave him and composed a symphonic masterpiece. We, the orchestra of instruments, each unique in style, shape and sound, play different notes with our own fanfare, but all playing for the same purpose. All playing variations of the same song he hummed and whistled into the fabric of our family. Each instrument, each note playing the tune of character and grace so we, like Grandpa, could do our best to epitomize the Great Conductor.

With our familial leaders only in our spiritual vision, our path looks and feels differently now. By walking together and carrying each other, we continue our journey with our backpacks filled with the tools and gifts given to us by their gracious hands. Grandma and Grandpa lived every day as if it were a beautiful day. Not once did they let one slip away - their fingers were too busy touching the lives of others. Their hands always working, helping when not folded in prayer.

I was at your home yesterday, and I was reminded of something. It’s not a house that makes a home, but rather the love that resides there.

I love and miss you,

Ryan